Everything At Once
by bonafake
Summary: COMPLETE: "Sirius," he said, voice trembling and breaking and shattering, while the sight of his dead godfather made him so terrified it hurt Hermione, too. The boy shook his head, looking confused. "What? No, no. I'm Regulus. Regulus Arcturus Black." RB/HG.
1. Chapter 1

**Everything At Once**

 _By: BonaFake_

###

 **Author's Note** : _As people are generally unaware, I think now would be a really good time to point out the fact that I'm newly obsessed with Regulus Black. And I've tried shipping him with EVERYONE. It's not even funny anymore_ _. I mean, like, Lily Evans, James Potter, and most recently, Hermione Granger. This five part piece is the result of the last. I'm not sorry. Oh, and by the way, the beginning is a bit darker than the rest of this piece. It gets fluffier as it goes. And then it plunges back into darkness._

 _Requests for one shots, drabbles, and headcanons are still open on my tumblr, through FFN's PM function, and my gmail bonafake3 AT gmail DOT com! This month, however, will be kind of hard for me to get anything done- I'm doing these pesky things called finals in the month of May..._

 _Anyways, enjoy!_

 _###_

The cave was ominous. Well, of course it was ominous. It was the cave where Tom Riddle had taken two small children and terrified them half to death. It wasn't threatening, though. Not right now. Just, sort of ominous. Hermione contemplated that as she sat next to Harry and tried to pretend that the place didn't bother her. Today had been awful. She and Harry had finally been allowed outside, but he'd insisted on flying here. It was a week before the anniversary of Dumbledore's death, and she supposed that might be part of his reasoning for this, but that didn't mean she had to like it. No. She didn't like this at all.

"Why did you end up picking this place?"

"Because it was the last place where he was while not being killed, you know," he said, frowning at the ground and kicking at a particularly stubborn rock.

"Oh," Hermione responded, not sure what to say to that. True, it was what she had expected, but even still. "He was a good man."

"Yeah."

There was an awkward, stiff pause in the conversation.

Harry turned towards her, looking tired and wan. But alive. She reminded herself of this every time he started looking too thin or too pale. He was alive. And really, that in of itself was a miracle. "What do you think Kings wanted us out of the house for?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I think he needs to get some work done with the rest of the Order."

"Right," Harry said, scowling. "I don't see why he doesn't tell me these things. It's not fair."

"It's all for you, Harry," Hermione sighed, then looked away. Harry had been temperamental since the day of the Trace. Granted, she'd been pissed off too, but at least that didn't come out as consistently annoyed and moody. The fact that they weren't allowed to perform magic, and a capture ending in multiple executions of multiple Weasleys and other Order members had not impaired her judgement.

"I know, I guess," Harry sighed, and looked away.

Hermione frowned at him. "Harry, you guess? It's a fact!"

"Yeah, yeah," he growled. Hermione got up and started to walk around. Moody, annoyed Harry was not a Harry she particularly wished to spend time with.

"Are you feeling alright, Harry?" she asked, turning around.

"No," he grumbled. "Kingsley isn't telling me what's going on and everyone's dying! Of course I'm not okay!"

But before Harry could finish his angry rant, Hermione held a finger to his lips. "Hold on. I think I hear something." She got up and started walking towards the rather ominous cave. Harry jumped up after her. "Hermione, no!"

"I hear something!"

"So?"

"We should go and investigate. What if there's a person in there?"

"No, it's way too dangerous. Kingsley said that we shouldn't put ourselves in harm's way."

"What happened to the Gryffindor I used to know?" Hermione asked, mocking him. It was an incredibly low blow, obviously, but she really wanted to know what the sound she'd heard was. "A year or so ago our roles would have been switched."

Harry bristled a bit under her accusations. Inwardly, Hermione smiled. Her best friend was going to let her do what she wanted now, and she knew it. It was dirty of her to manipulate, she knew, but sometimes it was necessary. And Hermione Granger was the kind of girl that did necessary things.

"Alright, alright," he muttered, walking towards her crossly. "But just this once."

They stood in front of the cave, staring at the entrance. There was a sound, Hermione was sure of it. And now there it was again! "Screams, Harry. Hear them?"

He nodded and looked towards her. "Can we get in?"

"I don't know," Harry replied. "Dumbledore- he bled on the stones to get it to open, but I don't know."

"Harry, there's someone hurt in there. We have to help."

"Alright," he said, walking towards the rock. Hermione grabbed his wrist. "No. I'll do it."

"Fine," he scowled back. Merlin, he was in a bad mood.

She ran her finger across a sharp edge of the rock and let a drop of blood well up and fall down onto the grey stone. Hermione stepped back, looking at the cave. "That's what you do, right?" Hermione asked, finger in her mouth. It really sucked not being able to use magic.

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

"Why isn't the cave doing anything?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's broken?"

"There's someone in there," she insisted, and Harry sighed. "Alright, we can wait a bit longer but then we're flying back."

"Good," Hermione replied and looked back towards the cave. "What's your secret?" she asked, and kicked the wall. Suddenly, it shifted and twisted away.

"Oh, it does still work," she said, and walked through.

Hermione was not destined to walk further, however, as she looked down and noticed that the ledge dropped off and falling didn't seem to be a notable enough death for an up and coming revolutionary. A grisly murder seemed far more appropriate. She couldn't think of who would assassinate her, though, so she considered stepping for a few seconds. One. Two. Three. Harry Potter. And then the thoughts were gone and she stepped back.

"Well, I guess we won't be going that way," Hermione said a bit too cheerfully.

Harry knew, he had to know. Maybe he didn't but she was pretty sure he did anyways.

"Yeah," he replied and grabbed her elbow, guiding her away from the ledge. They continued on a narrow rocky strip, stepping carefully over the numerous rocks in their way. Harry held onto her elbow tightly, looking across at the eerie green lake carefully.

"What's in there?" she asked, pointing at the lake. Harry grabbed her hand and they nearly stumbled on the rocks.

"Don't you dare touch that," he said, holding her wrist rather indelicately.

"Why not?"

"Because the lake's filled with Inferi, alright?"

Hermione grimaced and turned away. "Really? That's horrid!"

He nodded and held out his hand for them to continue walking. Hermione didn't take it.

The walk that followed was solemn, her knowing what was in the lake, and Harry presumably reminiscing. Hermione shuddered as she thought of the Inferi. They were terrifying. The undead, but not really. It was horrid.

They reached the raft, and then they heard it again. Screams. Hermione narrowed her eyes and looked around. "Where the hell is that sound coming from?"

"C'mon, 'Mione. There's nothing here. It's probably just your imagination."

"But you heard it! You heard it too! I'm not imagining anything!"

Harry shook his head. There's nothing here."

"No," she disagreed vehemently. "I heard it."

"Please, let's just go," Harry said, turning away from the strange green lake with the island that haunted his nightmares in the middle. He grabbed her elbow.

Hermione glared. Suddenly, as though possessed, she pulled her wand from the folds of her sweater. "Harry James Potter," she said, her voice deceptively calm. Hermione's fear was only shown through her heavily shaking hand. "If you don't stay here until we figure out where the hell that screaming was coming from, I am going to bring the Death Eaters right to our doorstep by- by doing something!"

He nodded. There was no reasoning with her. Ever. So Harry stayed, preparing his mind for the nightmares that would haunt him when they got back. They were a constant menace, a reminder that he hadn't been good enough to save Dumbledore, save the Weasleys.

Hermione turned back to the path. There had been screams- she was absolutely certain of it. She was going to figure out what had happened, and she was going to stop it. Maybe it was the fact that Hermione had been locked up under the Fidelius Charm for far too long, and her wand arm was getting twitchy, or maybe it was her ingrained hero complex. Either way, she wanted to save someone before she and Harry went went to bed that night.

There it was again! Loud screams! She turned around. Was there someone... In the water?

Hermione grabbed the sleeve of Harry's robe. "Do you see that, Harry? There's someone splashing in the water!"

He nodded, wide eyed. "See," Hermione cried victoriously, "There was something in there!"

Harry leaned over. "No, wait. We shouldn't be focusing on that now. There's a _person_ in there. We've got to save him."

She looked at the lake. "I don't know how. There's a sea of Inferi between us and this person's life."

"C'mon," he goaded her. "Where's your sense of Gryffindor bravery?"

Hermione sighed and leaned forward. "Alright, alright," she responded. "Is there any way that we can hold something out to grab him? Maybe a rope?"

"Sure," Harry responded instantly. "I have that one Kingsley gave us."

"Perfect," she said, and grabbed it after he'd yanked it out of his robes. Hermione tied a loop on the end of the rope and threw it after who- or what- was in the sea of Inferi.

"Grab this," she shouted as loudly as she could. "Hold on and we'll get you to shore!"

A hand emerged out of the slimy green water. Hermione grimaced. "C'mon!"

The hand grabbed the rope. It was a pale hand, slender fingers, definitely human. Harry let out a sigh of relief besides her. She glanced over. There was a definite tugging now, and she braced herself against the cave wall.

"Harry, help me," Hermione pleaded, and continued tugging. Harry grabbed her waist and started pulling, holding her back from the green water. White hands were stretching out towards them now. Had she touched the water? It didn't look like it, but maybe she had. Or perhaps the inferi were just annoyed by the disturbance. Harry shuddered. They couldn't use magic; there was no way of burning any inferi that approached.

Hermione continued tugging on the rope, lips thin. She was so relieved that they'd both agreed to take the muggle tool kit that Kingsley had asked them to bring. They wouldn't have been able to pull this poor person out of the sickly green water if they hadn't. She was pretty sure there were matches in there, too, in case either of them touched the inferi water.

The Inferi were grabbing at the man now, pulling at his robes and trying to drag him back under. "Oh no, you won't," Hermione muttered, and gave an especially vicious yank on the line. The man sputtered and coughed and reached his hand onto the rocky path. Harry helped to pull the man up- for he was definitely a man- but that was not to be the case, as he just threw himself back down at Hermione's feet. "My savior," he gasped, wrapping his hands around her legs.

Harry gave her a slightly amused look. She glared. "That's enough of that, now," she said, and offered her hand for him to grab. He looked up at her.

Grey eyes met amber. He was cold, that was the first thing she noticed. Cold in a different way than her hands were in the middle of the night. It was the kind of cold that felt like the first starlight on her face in months, the kind of cold that was sinking into a bath silently, the cold that blanketed her heart and wand arm. Burning ice. Hermione Granger held his gaze.

Their uncomfortable, cold silence was broken by Harry. "Who are you?" he asked, looking at the man in front of them.

Whoever he was looked up towards Harry now, the coldness in his eyes reaching them both, enveloping them both. Harry gasped and cried out, as if in physical pain. "Sirius," he said, voice trembling and breaking and shattering, while the sight of his dead godfather made him so terrified it hurt Hermione, too.

He shook his head, looking confused. "What? No, no. I'm Regulus. Regulus Arcturus Black."


	2. Chapter 2

**Everything At Once**

 _By: BonaFake_

###

 **Author's Note** : _Thank you so, so much for the absolutely wonderful response on the first chapter! Regumione is one of my favorite rare pairs and I was honestly kind of writing this for myself, not expecting anyone to read. But you did and that's wonderful. Thanks to reviewers pianomouse, Kat A Coop, Nautical Paramour, alex-hp7, anon, maraudersanarchy, Filiasfamilias, and Guest! I think I got around to answering everyone's questions and responding to reviews? But if not then oops and I'm a horrible organizer._

 _And I'm doing something super fun on tumblr, where I'm BonaFake. Since finals are coming up and I'm remarkably stressed out and really just not having a very good time right now, I'm letting people come in and request rare pairs for drabbles and over the next two weeks, I'll do ten of them! Requests have already been submitted for 7 out of the 10, but you can pop over and do a few more! (Also, Percy/Luna's ship name is Lunacy. Juuust putting that out there)._

###

The first thing that Harry did when he and Hermione pulled Regulus Arcturus Black out of a lake filled with Inferi was to promptly vomit onto Hermione's shoes. The second thing, though, or really more like third after helping Hermione to take off her shoes, was to look this guy in the eyes. The steely gray eyes that he knew. It was awkward, granted, that this kid was younger than he was, and yet seemed to look so much like the only father figure he'd ever had.

"I-," he tried to get out, only for Regulus to fix him with a cold gaze. No, those eyes weren't really anything like Sirius. They felt like ice. Harry knew who this kid was.

"I- You're Regulus Black," he said dumbly.

"Yes," the dark haired boy replied simply. Hermione, Harry noticed, had just narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you think the year is?" she asked.

"1979," he said firmly, and glanced at her to see if anything was wrong.

Harry looked at Hermione with a confused expression on his face. What the hell was going on here? She shook her head. "Alright, then," she said calmly, or as a calmly as she could manage. "Let's get out of this fucking cave and get some fresh air."

Regulus- if that was truly who he was, nodded. They began to walk out of the cave, Harry behind Hermione so that she didn't try any of that stepping off the ledge shite, because he knew now. He knew what she had been trying to do, and what he wouldn't let her do. Regulus trailed behind him, gray eyes looking so much Sirius's that he wanted to lose his lunch yet again.

"How did you get here?" Harry asked, not sure when Hermione was planning to tell him that he'd time traveled.

"I- My friend showed me how to get in."

"Why?" he asked. Harry was pretty sure that he knew why, of course, but he wanted Regulus to tell him.

"I can't tell you that," Regulus responded, shaking his head.

"Why not?"

"Because it's a secret, and to be perfectly honest, I don't trust you," he said, looking at Harry coldly. He wasn't quite sure what to say to that.

"You're really Regulus Black?" he asked, looking at the boy suspiciously. True, he looked quite a bit like Sirius, with dark hair, a pale complexion, and those steel cold eyes.

The boy rolled his eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you? Yes, I am."

Hermione tapped Harry's shoulder. "Let's just get out of the cave and then we can talk."

"Fine," he said crossly, still wanting to know more about their entire situation.

They stepped out of the cave in the bright light. Harry squinted in the sun, still adjusting after the darkness of the cave.

"So," Hermione prompted. "You're Regulus Black."

The boy nodded. "Yes."

"Why were you in the cave?" she asked, looking at him carefully. Harry briefly wondered what her end goal was. Didn't Regulus have to admit that he'd time traveled or something? He quickly shrugged it off. Hermione always had a plan in mind.

Regulus sighed. "Can I trust you?"

Harry nodded, trying his best to seem trustworthy.

"Alright," he said slowly, looking at them. "Do you believe in magic?"

"Oh, Merlin," she said, looking at him with amusement. "Did you really think we were muggles?"

Regulus stared at them. "Yes. You didn't have your wands out. What kind of wizard doesn't carry a wand with them when they're seeing Inferi?"

Hermione waved the question away. "We'll explain later. Let's get back to you. What were you doing in there?"

"I was- There was something I had to find," he practically whispered. Harry found himself straining to hear the quiet boy.

"What was it?" prompted Hermione. "A person? An object? Inferi tissue for research?"

"An object. A- a horcrux," Regulus whispered. "Do you know what that is?"

"Yes," Hermione said.

Regulus nodded, and then swallowed. Stiff upper lip and all that, Harry thought. Perhaps it was something that had been taught to the Black children from a young age. He supposed that was probably the truth.

"It was- it was a locket," Regulus said, twisting the hem of his sleeve around in his long, slender fingers. And it- it belonged to the Dark Lord."

Hermione nodded. "What did you do with it?"

"I went through all the steps to get the horcrux, and then- then I sent it off with my house elf- the one that I told you about," he said, glancing around nervously. "I just- I wanted to get rid of it. And then, because the potion that I had to drink to get the horcrux, I had to drink water. The inferi came out and they pulled me in."

Hermione nodded carefully. "I thought I was going to drown," he whispered. "You saved me. Thank you."

"I- that's what we do, right?" Hermione said, turning around to Harry and giving him a small smile. Save people, he thought bitterly. Yeah, that's what we do. Save people like Ginny or Neville or Ron. He bit down on the tip of his tongue to keep from sobbing out loud or collapsing in hysterical laughter.

"Tell me about yourselves, then," he said, blinking and acting like the last few minutes or so hadn't happened.

"Well, my name is Hermione and this is Harry. The year is 1999 and I'm twenty. Harry is still nineteen.

"Wha-" Regulus stuttered, looking at Hermione in astonishment, disbelief. "That- that can't be right."

"I- it is, somehow."

"Do you know?" he asked, looking so, so lost, Harry felt his own part of him that was lost go out to him.

"No. But we'll figure it out somehow. I promise," said Hermione. "Are you- will you come back with us?" she asked.

Regulus shrugged. "Alright. Nowhere else to go."

Harry looked at Hermione. "You'll have to fly with Harry- I hate brooms and there's no other way of getting back to the Order, you see," she said in a rush, looking at Regulus quickly.

"Wait, what?" Regulus cut in, looking stunned. "You're Order members?" he asked with a slight sneer.

"Yes, and damn well proud of it," Hermione fired back, narrowing her gaze. "Didn't you want You-Know-Who gone?"

Regulus's haughty expression faltered a bit at that. Hermione shook her head when he opened up her mouth to speak. "No, you know what, Regulus? You need to figure out your own reasons for stealing the horcrux. It doesn't matter right now. We have to go."

"Why?" asked Harry, curious now. "Did Kings say something about that?"

"And you haven't explained everything to me yet," Regulus said. "Why am I here?"

"We'll try and figure that out when we get home, alright? Right now we need to go."

"But-" he said, before being cut off by Hermione completely.

"Stop it, Harry. We've got to go. Hold the Invisibility cloak over yourselves and get going."

He nodded. Harry knew better than to question Hermione when she was acting like this. "Alright," he said, and motioned over toward his broom. Regulus followed, still looking as if he was suspicious of everything that was happening. Harry didn't blame him, of course. He didn't have all the facts. And he was a Slytherin, which automatically made him the kind of guy that didn't trust very easily.

Harry considered Regulus as he got onto the broom. He did look an awful lot like Sirius. But there was something about him that was a lot shiftier than Sirius's playful expressions. And Regulus, according to Hermione, was something of a hero. He'd defected from the Death Eaters, after all, and had tried to destroy Voldemort's horcrux. In Hermione's opinion, that made him a hero and a good guy. But Harry wasn't quite sure.

Was heroism defined by actions, or motivations? Harry tried to puzzle through it in his head, wondering what the truth of the matter was. Draco Malfoy, who had probably already returned to Headquarters, he thought, smiling, would be a hero by both measures. He'd defected from the Death Eaters, which was heroic in of itself, and done it for the right reasons, too. By Harry's measurement, the boy was a hero.

But Regulus? He was an enigma.

Harry kicked off of the ground when they were both on it with the Invisibility Cloak over top of them. He turned back to look at the boy. Regulus was pretty young, wasn't he? Eighteen, Sirius had said, when he died. He wondered how he'd survived. It probably had something to do with the time travel thing, but he wasn't sure. Hermione would figure it out. She always did.

###

When they arrived back at the house, Kingsley Shacklebolt was waiting for them, along with Draco. Harry grinned at the sight of his boyfriend, who he hadn't seen in at least two and a half weeks. "Hey," he said, grinning.

"Hey," Draco said, a smile turning up the corner of his mouth.

"How was the, you know, other station?" asked Harry.

"I really can't say," Draco said, pinching his lips together. Harry desperately hoped that meant he would tell him later. "Who's this?" he asked, jabbing his finger towards Regulus, who had just crawled out from underneath the Invisibility Cloak.

Harry frowned uncomfortably. "Oh. We've got a lot to explain. Can we come inside?"

Kingsley glared at them. "Where's Hermione?" he asked, looking actually somewhat nervous. "Is she alright?"

"I'm pretty sure," said Harry.

"You know her," Draco said, smiling. "Granger couldn't fly to save her life."

Harry cocked an eyebrow. "Well, maybe," he amended.

"Wha! Argh! Gah!" came from the sky and a Hermione that was coming down faster on her broom than should ever be considered safe. Harry cringed as she smacked into the ground, broom handle lodged almost up to her hands.

Draco grinned. "I stand corrected."

The group ambled inside, Kingsley looking suspiciously at Regulus. Harry didn't blame him.

"Alright, kids. Start talking," he said, folding his hands on the table. Harry gulped.

"Harry and I went to the horcrux cave and Regulus Black was in there," Hermione said in one breath. Kingsley laughed.

"That's a grand story, Granger," Draco said, smirking. "How about the truth now?"

"It is," she said, glancing at Harry for affirmation.

"We can wait all day for the real story, or Harry can tell us," said Kingsley, folding his arms across his chest. "Harry? The truth, please."

"What Hermione said was right," he said, mimicking the leader of the Order's posture. Draco half-smiled behind his back. "We did."

Kingsley sighed. "How do we know for sure that he's Regulus Black, anyways?" he asked.

"Because he told us exactly about the, well, you know," Hermione said, gesturing around her neck. "The- the thing."

"The soulbit?" Kingsley said, looking at them with scrutiny. "How do you know he's not just some Death Eater impostor?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Because he's not. I've been practicing the- the thing," she said, gesturing to her forehead.

"Legilimency?" he asked. "How do we know that he's not just occluding?"

Harry frowned. When had Hermione gotten into Regulus's mind? Was she lying? "Because I had to break through the shields. Honestly, Kings, you're going to be the Minister of Magic. You've got to be more accepting of your future citizens."

"I'm not yet."

"Semantics," she said, waving it away. "So, thoughts on the newest member of the Order of the Phoenix?"

"We've got things to consider, Hermione."

"Fine. Whatever," she said. "Reggie doesn't want to join anyways us, does he?"

Hermione laughed with a mean twinge to her voice and eyes. For a second, Harry tried to watch their tete a tete, and there was some sort of staring contest he wasn't part of. It looked like Hermione won, but he wasn't sure.

"Don't call me Reggie," he said, arms crossed like a petulant child.


	3. Chapter 3

**Everything At Once**

 _By: Bonafake_

###

 **Author's Note** : _Thank you for the reviews, faves, and follows! They mean the world to me! I'm on tumblr at bonafake, if you'd like to connect. Sorry this chapter is so late!_

###

"Was there really no way to keep me out of it?" Regulus asked Hermione in her room. He stood behind her desk, frowning as his hands moved over her shoulders in what should have been a rather lovely massage. Instead, they were both too focused on the work in front of them to pay it any mind.

"No. Kingsley said you were an Order member or you were a street urchin. I assumed you'd prefer not to be a street urchin."

Regulus had to agree with that. "Okay, well do I have access to my vaults back yet?"

Hermione frowned at him. "This is a shite massage."

"I'm going to take that as a no," he drawled, knowing that the tone annoyed her.

"You'd be correct, then. And stop poking me!"

He laughed and took his hands off of her back, thinking a rather odd thought. It hadn't even crossed his mind to ask after Sirius, or his mother and father, and it had been at least a day.

"They're dead, right?" he asked, not sure if Hermione knew who he was talking about.

"Yeah," she replied. So she did know, then. He wondered how.

At that moment, however, Harry chose to poke his head through the door. "Any progress on why he's here, 'Mione?"

"No, and to be honest, I don't think it should be a priority," Hermione responded, pushing back from the desk. "There's so many other things that we could be doing, and yet Kingsley is having me research time travel."

"Yeah."

"How's Draco?" Hermione asked, very obviously changing the subject. Regulus frowned.

Harry grinned. "Good."

"I'll have to ask for no specifics, thanks," she said.

"Alright," he agreed amicably. "What have you two been up to?"

Regulus glanced at Hermione. "Well," she trailed off.

He cringed. If Hermione wasn't going to say it, he was. "It may or may not be nothing?"

"So you've been unproductive all day?"

"Please don't tell Kingsley," Regulus responded, lying back on the desk. Hermione looked towards Harry. "He gave me a lovely shoulder massage?"

Harry frowned, then smiled. "Alright. You probably should do something, though."

She sat up, and for some reason, Regulus noted that when she did, the pale blue T-shirt she wore rode up over her hips and back, revealing about an inch of creamy skin. It did things to him, that inch. He tried not to stare. Harry, however, appeared to notice his wandering gaze and grinned.

"Alright," Hermione said, apparently oblivious. "We should get back to the reading."

She tugged her shirt back down, and Regulus tried not to sigh. She was pretty, and that was a fact. He wished she wasn't, because he knew for a fact she was a Mudblood and that was a problem.

Sort of.

It wasn't a problem, but it was. It wasn't a problem because his mother was dead and therefore didn't mind any longer. It was a problem because Regulus didn't quite know what to do with the liberation of no longer having to be a bigot. It was both at once. He didn't know what to think, what to do, if she even liked him back. It was the stresses of being a teenager again. He didn't want to think about it, about her.

But couldn't he just sort of avoid the problem? Just not think about it? Yeah, that was exactly what he would do.

"Alright. I guess we should do something," she sighed, and pulled the book back towards her. They read in silence for about ten minutes, until Hermione jumped up with her scary-person face on. "I've got it!" shrieked Hermione "It's the ley lines!"

Regulus blinked. What was that supposed to mean? "Huh?" he asked, probably sounding like the uneducated male swine he was.

"The ley lines," she said with exasperation. "They're what helped you travel here."

He frowned, wondering what she meant. Ley lines gave power, right? So she was saying that he had stayed alive for nineteen some years, just waiting for them to come along? "It didn't feel like I was there for twenty years, though," he interjected. "Only a few minutes with the inferi."

She shook her head. "No, if the lines had been keeping you alive for that long, you'd have been found when Dumbledore and Harry went a few years ago. You time traveled when there was a surge."

"So I was just in the right place at the right time," he sighed. Of course it was that. Of course he hadn't been chosen specially to travel to the new time. What did he have to offer them, anyways? Nothing, only old information that the Order didn't need anymore. It struck Regulus that he actually kind of wanted to help the Order, and it didn't feel that odd.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think it was only that. A surge wouldn't have transported you twenty years into the future. There had to be something else, too."

He frowned. "What was it, then?"

"Hold on. I need to keep reading."

Regulus lay back, and let her get to work. Hermione was only a minute this time. "I've got it," she said triumphantly. "You have to have sort of an anchor to this time―something that tugs you to this time. There's not really time on the ley lines, which might be part of the reason You-Know-Who chose the place―but that's besides the point right now―anyways. You got tugged here because something close was anchoring you to this time. And the line's burst of power propelled you to this here and now."

He felt his heart speed up―he had a reason to be here, something other than just pure dumb luck. There was a reason he was here. "So what do you think my anchor is?"

Hermione scrutinized him, frowning cutely. Even when she frowned she was cute. And smart. She was always smart. "I don't know," she said finally, turning back to the book. "According to this, most of the time, it's a person."

Regulus wondered who his anchor was. His family was almost all dead, and the ones that were still alive were insane or traitors. Apparently, his cousin Andromeda had not survived the blood traitor purges. He shuddered at the thought. And he'd be in that group now, too, wouldn't he? "I don't know who it is," Hermione said carefully. "But even still, since you're anchored by both the ley line and whichever person it is, you can't go back. Ley line time travel is permanent."

"What about temporal paradoxes?" he asked, unsure about his contact with humans now.

Hermione waved that way. "They don't exist?"

He blinked. "They don't?"

She shook her head no. "McGonagall explained it all to me when I got the time-turner my third year. They can't exist, because everything is happening at once, and everything you do has already happened, will happen, and is happening currently. In a universe like that, there's no way to create time paradoxes. Because everything's happening and will, and already has. It's just a blob of everything."

"Oh. They said that time was fragile, before."

"It doesn't work that way," she said. "You can't. They only reason that they tell you not be seen while using a time-turner is because you have to have some sort of restrictions. They don't do anything that hasn't already happened."

"So I'm stuck here?"

"Do you want to go back?" she asked. "You die, you know."

"No."

"Good," she said. "You can't."

And that was that.

If the rest of their conversation felt impersonal and stilted, neither of them said anything.

Later that day, when Kingsley had left and it was only Hermione, Harry, Draco, and Regulus in the cottage, they went downstairs to eat something. Hermione stabbed Draco with a fork when he tried to eat her yogurt and Harry ate too many potato chips. Regulus laughed. It was something he hadn't done in a long time.

"So," Hermione began. "We know there's something going on. But we don't know what."

"What are they on about?" Regulus hissed to Draco.

"Harry and Hermione think that Kings is keeping something from them―something big, actually. I'm inclined to agree."

"Why?" he whispered savagely. "Because Potter's giving you blow jobs?"

Draco's smirk was almost enough to answer the question. Harry, however, answered with words instead. "While the blow jobs are both plentiful and excellent, that's not the only reason. The reason is because he's been leaving at odd hours and he had Charlie leave Romania and take up a Ministry job, something that he shouldn't have risked, and he also said that he was going to start rallying some other forces. There's going to be a battle, and I have to be part of it."

Hermione nodded at the table. "Exactly. We're almost certain that a big fight is coming up. For that, we've got to be prepared."

"Why don't we practice, then?" asked Regulus, frowning. "We can do some duels, you know, warm up?"

Hermione was instantly standing up, blocking him with her hands, rushing over and pushing him to the ground. "Don't."

He held his hands up in mock surrender. Hermione stood up, looking sheepish. She scuttled back over to her seat. "Sorry," she apologized quickly. "It's just―Look, do you have your wand?"

Regulus shook his head no. Its absence had bothered him for a while."Good," Hermione responded. "We haven't told you about the Trace, right?"

"No."

She turned to the rest of the group. "We really should, shouldn't we?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. There's something that happens when we cast any spells. The Death Eaters―they know where we are, when we do magic."

He nodded. "So they can track our magic."

"Exactly."

"Any known Order members or suspected people, and of course underage people," he mused. "Would that extend to me? I don't think he knew I, well, defected. Sort of."

Hermione shook her head. "Of course he'd take notice. You were dead for a really long time. If your magical signature showed up now, he'd flip."

"I guess that makes sense. Tracking people is the best way of getting everyone under your finger."

She frowned at him disapprovingly. "Anyways, Harry, Draco. We figured it out. Ley lines. That's how Regulus got here." Hermione didn't say anything else, and the rest of them dropped it.

Draco was leaning forward now, looking like the kind of boy Regulus was. "So. Black. Uncle. Sort of. Relation on my mother's side. What do you know?"

"Um. Well," he said, feeling somewhat flustered, but not really in the mood to show it. "The Dark Lord made a horcrux, and that was how he was immortal, right? And he also―I don't know. I don't know what's current and what was in the past."

Hermione frowned. "It doesn't make sense to try to puzzle that out. Your memories probably got scrambled in the ley line. Time is funny there."

"Yeah," he said, relaxing slightly. "I guess. Horcrux? You knew?"

"Of course. There was more than one. Seven," Hermione said, nodding. "We got them all, though."

"Then why isn't he dead? And how does that many soulbits work?"

"Badly," Draco said, putting a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "For literally everyone involved."

"I bet so. How is he even still walking? He's probably only got like, one percent of a soul left."

"How do you figure?" Draco asked, leaning back.

"Well, because he kept splitting it in half, right? It would eventually get really, really small."

Hermione opened and closed her mouth, looking rather like a codfish. He smiled at the thought. Finally, she made a choice and opened her mouth to begin speaking. "That makes sense, I guess. So would he be easier to kill if we got all the horcruxes or harder?"

Draco frowned. "I guess because he was less of a human, harder, right?"

"Or because he was less of a human, easier to kill."

"If he's hardly alive, you can't kill him, right?" Harry interjected. "So harder. Because he's got less than a percent of his soul leftover."

Regulus nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense."

Hermione stuck her tongue out at the table, looking annoyed about being in the wrong. Regulus knew she got huffy about it. He was just like that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Everything At Once**

 _By: bonafake_

###

 **Author's Note** : _Ohmygosh so I went through my drafts, right? And, apparently, I have had chapter four written for like, six months now and just. Haven't posted it, apparently. Upon re-reading it, I discovered that it was kind of one of the better things I've written in a while, so I hope you all enjoy! Thank you to_ _ **ChamberlinofMusic**_ _,_ _ **Gueneviere**_ _, and_ _ **Lunaluvr95**_ _for reviewing! I look forward to hearing what everyone thinks of this chapter!_

###

Hermione looked over the table as they ate, somber and fairly quiet. "We won't know until we try," Regulus said suddenly, looking up from his granola.

"Know what?"

"Whether or not he's easier or harder to kill when he's like that," he said, clearing up the remaining confusion.

"Oh," Hermione replied, wondering what he meant by that, exactly.

"We'll probably figure it out at some point then, right?" Harry said, smiling grimly. Draco smacked him in the arm.

Hermione pondered as the fight between Draco and Harry escalated. Why did he care if Hermione was right or wasn't? Then she was pretty sure she understood. He didn't want her precious little ego to be all messed up, right? That had to be it. It didn't annoy her much.

"I bet it would be harder," she volunteered. "You guys made sense."

Regulus shook his head. "Oh, no. We don't know yet."

Why they were adamantly denying whatever they'd said before, she had no idea. It was nice, though.

They spent the rest of the night in mostly amicable silence.

The next day, however, was nowhere near as peaceful.

Hermione woke to the sound of shrieks, loud shrill noises that pierced the air and hurt her head. Then she realized that they were her own. Harry came running first, then Regulus. Draco did not appear at all. She didn't mind.

He rushed over, clutching her hand. She could feel her heart still beating rapidly. What had the nightmare been? Oh, yes. The usual. Bellatrix.

"I―Are you okay, 'Mione?"

"No," she said, looking up at Harry, who had the sweetest concerned expression on his face. "But I will be."

That was a fact. She was always okay in the end. It was just the way things worked. Regulus leaned up against the doorframe. "Harry? I think you should leave," he said quietly. "I have to ask Hermione a quick question."

He nodded quickly, and hurried out of the room. Hermione narrowed her eyes at Regulus. Had he figured out that she was his anchor? Her heart was beating like a sparrow in her throat. It felt like she might burst any minute now. She resorted to her last delaying tactic. She couldn't talk about that just yet. "Do you still hate muggleborns?" Hermione asked, wanting to talk about bigotry more than their potential soulmate mess.

He let out a breath. Regulus knew for sure about the anchoring. "I don't know," he said quietly. "I―Muggles are dangerous to our society, but―I guess they're just not things you hate."

"Are they things to you?" Hermione asked, letting out a breath. She'd successfully gotten the topic away from potential soulmate discussion.

"No. I guess not. They're people. They're just―dangerous people," he finished, not making eye contact with her. "Muggles, not muggleborns," clarified Regulus.

Hermione nodded. "Why not muggleborns?"

"Some of the best people I've ever met were muggleborns," he said, barely meeting her eyes. She could barely breathe. It was an odd feeling.

"Like who?" Hermione nearly whispered, crossing her toes. That was supposed to be lucky, right?

"Like you," he answered, a pale pink flush creeping up the back of his neck.

"I'm glad you think so," she responded, leaning forward on the bed, and he was doing the exact same thing―when had he sat down, anyways?― but their almost moment was ruined by Draco's sudden reappearance.

"Oh," he said as he entered the room. "Sorry."

She shrugged, leaning away from Regulus as quickly as possible. He did the same, and she could feel the burn of awkwardness in her cheeks. It was a good thing they hadn't kissed, right? If they did, well, that would be something kind of binding, or at least she thought it would be.

"That's alright," Regulus intoned quickly, sending a furtive glance towards Hermione. She felt red from head to toe. Shame burnt worse than a flaming matchstick held up to her forearm.

"Exactly," she added. "We're alright."

Draco nodded slowly, doubtfully, and a grin spread across his face. He looked so different when he smiled, she thought. "Of course you're alright," he smirked. "Obviously."

"Yeah," Regulus said, and she could have sworn she heard his heart beating quickly, in time with her own, from across the bed.

They were awkward for at least a day, after that.

###

Hermione wasn't quite sure what the thing was about Regulus. He was handsome, sure. He was smart, obviously. He was kind to house elves. He was aloof and aristocratic as hell. He was obnoxiously well read, well enough that he could have an annoyingly competent discourse about _Ulysses_ and take the stance exactly opposite hers. But there was something else, something that she didn't quite know and didn't quite understand. It wasn't good or bad, whatever the thing was; no, it was something that defined his spirit, not his loyalty.

She was pretty sure it was love.

She hoped it wasn't.

Hermione lay on her bed, contemplating the love thing. Why didn't she want to be in love? There was an obvious answer, and then there was a complicated answer. With footnotes. The obvious answer was the fact that the only other person she had thought she was in love with was dead, killed by You-Know-Who in a remotely epic slaughter. There might have been some sort of subliminal anti-love agenda on her mind, but that wasn't the real reason. The real reason was something a hell of a lot more complicated.

She was his soulmate, or his anchor or whatever one wanted to call it. She was his.

That, by itself, might be enough to steer a girl away from commitment.

###

She was lying awake in bed when she first heard the sounds.

They sounded like crying. They were also very worrisome.

Hermione walked downstairs to see Regulus on the worn down couch, lost boy expression on. "Hey," she greeted him, so aware of their awkwardness that it hurt.

He nodded at her, then pinched his lips together in a show of something she didn't know. It struck her suddenly that she knew next to nothing about him, about this boy that cried in the middle of the night and sat up as soon as someone appeared so that it looked like he didn't care, didn't want them to know. He looked like the kind of boy that kept secrets. The most disturbing part of that was that Hermione knew, in that second, that she trusted him implicitly.

She loved him.

It was a trainwreck.

"Is everything alright?" she asked, frowning. "I―I heard someone crying. Was it you?"

"No," he denied. Hermione was pretty sure she knew better.

"I'm not sure if that's for the first question or the second."

"The first," he said, and looked up at her defiantly.

She loved him.

It was a trainwreck.

"What can I do for you?"

He turned away, face obscured from her prying eyes. Hermione wasn't sure what to do. Her love didn't extend to knowing what the hell to do with this closed off, quiet, Slytherin boy. "What did you think of me when you first met me?"

Hermione sat down next to Regulus. "I thought you sounded like an arrogant pompous brat. Until―"

"Until what?" he asked, turning towards her, a frown on his face.

"Nothing," she said, shaking her head. "It was nothing."

"Tell me," Regulus persisted.

She let out a somewhat dramatic sigh. "Fine. I thought you were an arrogant pompous brat until I learned that you were Regulus Black."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Nothing."

"I see my reputation precedes me," he said, frowning and turning away from her. "Did you hear about the horcrux thing?'

"Yes," responded Hermione. But she didn't say anything else.

"So then do you like me because of that or with that as part of the package deal?" he asked, turning towards her and smiling, just a bit. His smile twisted and twined over his face, changing it completely from the somber expression he'd been wearing earlier. It was a smile she decided she couldn't live without.

She loved him.

It was a trainwreck.

"How do you know I like you?" she asked, but a smile was creeping towards her lips, too.

He shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant and failing. "I just do."

Hermione reached for his hand. "You'd be right."

"If―if you'd asked me the same thing―you'd be right too," he said, looking at their hands.

She loved him.

It was a trainwreck.

###

Hermione wasn't sure how she fell in love with Regulus Black so quickly. Perhaps it was because when she shuffled around her papers for S.P.E.W. research, he grinned and put one back in the pile after commenting on the true need for house elf welfare. Perhaps it was when he claimed some of the best people he knew were muggleborns. Perhaps it was when he and Harry and Draco played pick up Quidditch inside the house and all three of them argued over who got to be seeker.

She wasn't sure.

All she knew was that she had fallen in love with Regulus faster than anyone would ever consider reasonable and it felt like she was being devoured by some sort of large, mythical monster. In a good way. Loving Regulus wasn't like anything else she'd ever done. No, no―it was an all consuming feeling, a sensation that occupied her every other thought and was an utter trainwreck.

She was a trainwreck.

She was in love.

And she was almost certain they were the same thing.

###

Hermione lay on Regulus's bed, feeling especially in love in that very moment. Regulus was rummaging around in his drawer, searching for―well, searching for something. She didn't know what. Probably it was something to do with their work project. He had decided to take S.P.E.W. under his wing, and with as much grace as she could muster, Hermione had accepted. So far, they hadn't gotten much done besides argue about funding.

There was a crash of books and then―

"Do you hate this?" she heard him say, sounding annoyed and just―like a miniature volcano, spraying out and splattering everywhere.

Hermione looked up.

He was holding his arm up, bared to the air and showing off his Dark Mark.

She flinched.

"I'm going to take that as a yes," he said, sucking in a breath of air, sounding like a dying giraffe. "You hate it. Hermione. You hate me."

"No."

That was the only thing she got out before she started crying in deep, shaking breaths. Regulus stood over her and looked like he was trying to not cry. He cried anyways. They both did until it didn't hurt to breathe anymore. Hermione wasn't sure why it hurt so much. It hurt in a way that was being cut into pieces with a surgeon's scalpel and being boiled in red wine while still being fully conscious. The tears were acid on her face. His sobs were gunshots in her ears.

She didn't hate Regulus for having the Dark Mark. She didn't love him for trying to get rid of Voldemort's horcrux.

Hermione was in love with Regulus for the in-between, the part of him that wasn't heroic coward but also wasn't second youngest traitor to Voldemort. He wasn't either of those things―he was an in-between, a schism, a conundrum all his own, a nothing, an everything.

"You are not defined by your actions," she whispered when she was able to speak without a shaking voice.

"That sounds like a misquote," Regulus whispered back. His voice still shook. Hermione wondered if she should have said her piece sooner.

"It's not."

She loved him.

It was not a trainwreck.


	5. Chapter 5

**Everything At Once**

 _By: bonafake_

###

 **Author's Note** : _I finally finished this thing! It's been at least a year, but - it's done! Finally! I hope everyone enjoys this last section. If you do, I'd love it if you left a comment! Thank you all for sticking with this little story. I'm on Tumblr at bonafake, along with ao3!_

###

On the day that Regulus Black finally recognized the fact that he was deeply, truly in love with Hermione Granger, Harry Potter saved the world.

It was not world-saving in the way most of humanity engages in, where they do one good deed, like donating a meal to a starving child, or the kind that superheroes do when they pull people out of volcanoes. No, this was a different kind of world saving, the one where the brave and dashing hero overthrows the horrid and evil dictator and they all live happily ever after, with their somewhat psychotic boyfriends and start teaching defense arts at their childhood school. At least, that was the kind of happy ending Regulus imagined for Harry. He was pretty sure that was the happy ending everyone else imagined for him too. It was the happy ending he deserved, at the very least.

"We need to go save the world," Harry said, looking at them seriously and narrowing his eyes. It was hard to take him seriously because he was lying on his stomach with an Operation game board in front of him.

Draco turned from the chess game he was playing with Hermione, who looked to be in the process of winning.

Regulus had never been good at chess. He looked down, jabbed his tweezers into the heart, and sighed as the buzzer went off again.

"What for?" Draco asked, looking at his boyfriend with something resembling annoyance. "I've almost won."

"No, you haven't," Hermione said.

"Whatever. Harry. Why do we have to go?"

"To save the world," he responded patiently. Regulus was pretty sure Draco was looking for a bit more clarification.

"No, I mean how?"

"By just―by doing the thing!"

Hermione crossed her arms at Harry and narrowed her eyes. "Harry. Make sense, or Draco and I will go back to playing chess."

"Fine."

Regulus didn't think Harry was able to form coherent sentences―either due to the mind-scrambling capabilities of early-morning blowjobs from somewhat psychotic boyfriends, or the fact that he hadn't had to properly articulate his thoughts since he'd been leading a rebellion, not just four teenagers in hidden cottage. Regulus was wrong.

###

"I'm not sharing a broom with him," Draco said. His jaw was set.

"What the―" Regulus sighed. "We only have three brooms, Malfoy."

Draco shrugged, and passed the remaining broom to Hermione.

###

Hermione turned to him. "You don't mind, do you?"

He shook his head no―though he didn't know what she was talking about―the planned attack on Lord Voldemort, his previous master, or about the broom ride. He knew he would have answered no to both of them. It didn't matter.

She turned back to Harry, and told him off for scuffing his boots on the floor of the Ministry and―

Oh.

He knew now.

"Well?" she interrupted.

He loved her.

It was an earthquake.

They were going to save the world today.

He tried to take a deep breath. That was something that people did, nowadays, wasn't it? "Whatever you say," Regulus said. He smiled. it seemed like the right thing for him to do.

She looked at him suspiciously. "You've never been this aquiescent before."

"I know, it's kind of weird," he said. He smiled again, almost against his will. His lips were chapped, and he was in love.

###

His breath came in shallow, harsh pants. He leaned back against the wall and pressed his fingers into his eye sockets.

The green flash―

He could still see them all falling, the sound of bodies hitting the floor of the Ministry with a dull thud.

That green―

It was almost like―

Regulus closed his eyes.

The voice in his ear was a soft whisper. It got under his skin, needles pricking through whatever his consciousness was thinking. "You're here," it said. "You're okay."

He could feel himself sinking towards the ground, cracked concrete underneath him. "You're okay," he heard again, and―

Hermione.

He opened his eyes.

###

"I don't need a trauma blanket," he said. "Why is there a trauma blanket?"

"Because you underwent trauma," Hermione said. She was also underneath a trauma blanket. Her hair was wild around her face, and her eyes―oh, that was right.

The world shook off its own trauma blanket, and―

He was in love.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

He nodded, tugged at his shirtsleeves, and cast the blanket off. The sirens were screaming. Regulus could hear them from a block away. "I'm fine," he said, absently.

"You have hair in your face," she said. Her mouth curved, the corners of her lips turning upwards.

He brushed at his head.

"Good job," Hermione told him. She turned to face the street. He could feel his eyes following her motion, like magnetically attracted rocks. He could feel his heart pushing at his chest from the inside.

He didn't kiss her. He looked down at his shoes, the black leather still scuffed with chalky, white dust. "I think I need new shoes," he said. Hermione looked down.

"I don't think you need them," she said.

"I think I want them."

She pursed her lips and said nothing. Say anything, he thought. Say anything, to me. She looked at the flattened street signs and kicked at the white dust on the ground.

###

"You should not have done that," said Kingsley.

"Yeah, but," Harry said. "We definitely won, so."

Draco gave him a look. "Harry," he said. "Shut up."

"What, just because some Death Eater smashed a piece of concrete into his lungs?" Hermione asked in mock surprise. "That's no reason to shut up, Draco, be reasonable."

Harry coughed hackingly. "Yeah, Draco. I'll talk however much I―"

Hermione rolled her eyes and steered him towards a chair. "You sit," she told him. "And don't you dare talk." She turned to Draco. "Don't egg him on. Or let him get up."

"But we just saved the world," Harry said.

"Shut up," Hermione and Draco said in unison.

Regulus smiled at Hermione. It felt as though his lips were cracking, like he was being splayed open. He wanted her to eat him raw.

He was in love.

It was an earthquake.

###

The hospital room smelled sterile and the floors were very white and clean. "I can't believe we had to take him to a muggle hospital," Draco complained. "He's the savior of the goddamned Wizarding world."

"And you destroyed St. Mungo's with a single Bombarda Maxima," Hermione was quick to counter.

"Still," Draco huffed.

"He's going to be alright, though?" Regulus asked. He felt like a child. He was a child. He was in love.

"He'll be fine. He was in the medical wing every single year since his first at Hogwarts," Hermione said. She smiled, softly. Sadly. "He fought a troll for me, once."

"And he tried to murder me with Sectumsempra once, so I think we all know who he loves more," Draco cut in. His tone was joking, but he looked towards the entrance to the operating rooms anxiously.

"You should―" Regulus stopped, surprised to find himself speaking. "You should get yourself some coffee."

Draco glanced at him, surprised. "Yeah," he said finally. "I guess I will."

He left. The door to the emergency room closed behind him.

Hermione gave him another small, sad smile. "That was good," she said.

He forced a tight laugh. "Thanks."

"No, really."

They lapsed into silence. He looked down at the floor. Her shoes were wrapped around the legs of the plastic chair. "I think―"

"I think―"

He stopped. "You first."

"No, no, go ahead."

He wanted to push the words out. He did. "I think you're the reason I'm here," he said. His eyes hadn't moved from the white hospital tiles, and her feet, still curled around the metal chair legs.

"I thought so, too," she said. An admission. "And that scares me. It―look, Regulus, the only other person I've fallen in love with like this died. He was killed during the blood-traitor purges while his sister and mother and father all watched. And I don't―you scare me. This scares me. I need―I need time."

He took a breath in. "Okay," he said. "I can give you that. All the time you need."

"Okay," Hermione said. She looked up at him.

###

The world didn't end.

Harry Potter won the war.

Draco Malfoy bought a ring.

Hermione Granger took a student teaching position.

Regulus Black stayed in love.

He gave Hermione time, space, and he would have given her everything on the continuum if he could've done it without tearing the very fabric of existence. He gave her small smiles and an antique cuckoo clock and a room in 14 Grimmauld Place and he gave her time.

She took it, and she gave him updates on the condition of Harry's maybe-collapsed lung and enough galleons for a real trip to Ollivanders for his wand and a key to her place in muggle London and a short, sweet kiss on one fine day in early December.

"I'm done waiting," she told him.

"Oh," was all he could say, and she kissed him again, and they were okay.


End file.
